Chess
by Pinkie Tuscadaro
Summary: Dally worries about Johnny after Johnny and Ponyboy leave Buck's.


I watched them leave as I stood in the doorway at Buck's. I could hear the loud country twang of the music behind me, and I was still half asleep as the adrenaline rush was wearing off. Johnny killed someone? A soc? I rubbed my hand across my cheek, feeling the rough stubble. Shit. I couldn't believe it.

They were gone now, I couldn't see them anymore. I felt this unease like a hum in my veins, this worry that was gripping me and wouldn't let go. It was because Johnny did this, and there were so many ways that it could end badly. Johnny was, I didn't know, different than the rest of us. He was tough, I'm not saying that. That kid could take a lot. Those beatings from his old man, I mean, I'd seen him after a few of those. Despite the black eyes and the busted ribs he wouldn't bat an eye. It wasn't that. He was kinder somehow, sort of sensitive. He wouldn't hurt anyone like that, I never thought he would. And it isn't even that. That goddamn soc had it coming, I'm sure. They were all fuckers. Rich privileged fuckers. And after what those socs had done to him a few months back, they more than had it coming. I didn't care that he killed him, but I knew that Johnny did. When they came in here, Ponyboy crying, Johnny had this look, this look, it was hard to describe.

I sighed. Maybe they'd be all right. They both needed protecting. Ponyboy was just young and scatter brained, and really was only part of things because of his older brothers. But Johnny was more than part of things, he was like the glue that held us together. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him.

But I knew, even as I shut the door softly and headed back up to my room, I knew that something had happened to him. He killed this soc and that changed everything. He'd be on the run for the rest of his life or the cops would get him and he'd go to jail, maybe even the electric chair. I knew they could play it as self defense but public defenders were worth shit and the socs had all the money and if they wanted him to fry then he'd fry. Money talks, I knew that. So things had changed. If he ended up in jail I knew what that would do to him. He'd get hard in jail, you had to in order to survive it. I didn't want that to happen to him.

In my room sleep wouldn't come. I tossed and turned, seeing that look that was in Johnny's eyes when he was up here listening to the half baked plan I cooked up for them. But I was their best bet. God knows Darry would make them go to the cops. But I knew, despite all this trouble, killing trouble, that that soc had it coming or Johnny never would have done it. He wasn't a juvenile delinquent, he wasn't a threat. I was a threat.

Then the doubts creep in, the self-incriminations. Could I have protected them? I'd won plenty of fights, and those socs made me enraged. If the three of us had squared off with them they would have all crawled home with busted skulls but they'd be alive. But then, what was I thinking? When had I ever been able to protect Johnny? I was never there when shit went down for him.

Aw, shit. There was no way to get out of this. I buried my head in the pillow, feeling anger start to replace the worry. Goddamn Johnny. This wasn't how I liked to be. I liked to be hard and not give a shit about anyone. Nothing could hurt you that way. Nothing could touch you. I learned that pretty goddamn young. My parents didn't give a shit about me, and it didn't take me too long to not give a shit about them. Things hurt a lot less when you didn't care, and I didn't care about anything except one thing. Johnny. How did this happen? How did I let him in? I didn't know what it was about Johnny, I just knew that if anything happened to him I wouldn't be able to take it. Fuck. See what happens when you care? The world can fall apart.

There was nothing for it now. They were off to Windrixville and I'd have to play the cards here as well as I could. I'd tell the cops a bunch of bullshit lies about where they were headed and I wouldn't tell Darry and Soda nothing, and I'd let it slip to all the big mouthed greasers and hoods around here that they were headed for Texas. Get the cops off their trail. Then I'd go up there once it was safe just so I could see that they were okay for myself. Then I'd figure out what to do next. I used to play chess when I was a little kid with my grandfather, my old man's father, one mean son of a bitch. We'd play chess and he told me to stay a step ahead, two or three or four steps ahead. And I knew that life was fucking chess, and if you were going to win you had to be five steps ahead of everyone. I'd be damned if I lost it and let anything happen to Johnny.


End file.
